CHAPTER XXIX
THE PARCEL FROM HULL
Chettle sat alone in the waiting-room, a monument of patient resignationto his fate. His hands were bunched on the head of his walking-stick, hischin propped on his hands; his eyes were bent on a certain spot on thecarpet with a fixed stare. And when Allerdyke entered he sprang up as ifroused from a fitful slumber.
"I should ha' been asleep in another minute, Mr. Allerdyke," he saidapologetically. "Been waiting over an hour, sir--and I'm dog-tired. I'vebeen at it, hard at it! every minute since I left you. And--I had tocome. I've news."
"Come up," said Allerdyke. "I've news, too--it's been naught else butnews all day. You haven't seen Fullaway while you've been waiting?"
"Seen nobody but the hotel folks," answered the detective. He followedAllerdyke up to his private sitting-room and sighed wearily as he droppedinto a chair. "I'm dog-tired," he repeated. "Fair weary!"
"Have a drink," said Allerdyke, setting out his decanter and a syphon."Take a stiff 'un--I'll have one myself. I'm tired, too. I wouldn't likethis game to be on long, Chettle--it's too exhausting. But, by the LordHarry!--I believe it's coming to an end at last!"
The detective, who had gladly helped himself to Allerdyke's whisky, tooka long pull at his glass and sighed with relief.
"I believe so myself, Mr. Allerdyke," he said. "I do, indeed!--things areclearing, sir, though Heaven knows they're thick enough still. You sayyou've fresh news!"
Allerdyke lighted a cigar and pushed the box to his guest.
"Your news first," he said. "I daresay it's a bit out of the completeweb--let's see if we can fit it in."
"It's this," answered Chettle, pulling his chair nearer to the table atwhich he and his host sat. "When I got back to Hull they told me at thepolice headquarters that a young man had been in two or three times,while I was away, asking if he could see the London detective who wasdown about the Station Hotel affair. They told him I'd gone up to townagain, and tried to find out what he wanted, but he wouldn't tell themanything--said he'd either see me or go up to London himself. So thenthey let him know I was coming back, and told him he'd probably find methere at noon to-day. And at noon to-day he turns up at thepolice-station--a young fellow about twenty-five or so, who looked likewhat he was, a clerk. A very cute, sharp chap he was, the sort that'snaturally keen about his own interests--name of Martindale--and beforehe'd say a word he wanted to see my credentials, and made me swear totreat what he said as private, and then he pulled out a copy of thatreward bill of yours, and wanted to know a rare lot about that, all ofwhich amounted to wanting to find out what chance he had of getting holdof some of the fifty thousand, if not all. And," continued Chettle with alaugh, "I'd a lot of talking and explaining and wheedling to do beforehe'd tell anything."
"Had he aught to tell?" asked Allerdyke. "So many of 'em think they have,and then they haven't."
"Oh, he'd something to tell!" replied Chettle. "Right enough, he'd a gooddeal to tell. This--he told me at last, as if every word he let out wasworth a ransom, that he was a parcels office clerk in the North EasternRailway Station at Hull, and that since the 13th of May until the daybefore yesterday he'd been away in the North of Scotland on hisholidays--been home to his people, in fact--he is a Scotsman, which, ofcourse, accounts for his keenness about the money. Now, then--on thenight of May 12th--the night, as you know, Mr. Allerdyke, of yourcousin's supposed murder, but anyway, of his arrival at Hull--this youngman Martindale was on duty in the parcels office till a very late hour.About ten to a quarter past ten, as near as he could recollect, agentleman came into the parcels office, carrying a small, square parcel,done up in brown paper and sealed in several places with black wax. Hewanted to know when the next express would be leaving for London, and ifhe could send the parcel by it. Martindale told him there would be anexpress leaving for Selby very shortly, and there would be a connectionthere for a Great Northern express to King's Cross. The gentleman thenwanted to know what time his parcel would be likely to be delivered inLondon if he sent it by that train. Martindale told him that as near ashe could say it would be delivered by noon on the next morning, and addedthat he could, by paying an extra fee, have it specially registered anddelivered. The gentleman at once acceded to this, handed the parcelover, paid for it, and left. And in a few minutes after that, Martindalehimself gave the parcel to the guard of the outgoing train."
Chettle paused for a moment, and took a reflective pull at his glass.
"Now, then," he went on, after an evident recollecting of his facts,"Martindale, of course, never saw the gentleman again, and dismissed sucha very ordinary matter from his mind. Early next morning he went off onhis holiday--where he went, right away up in Sutherland, papers were fewand far between. He only heard mere bits of news about all this affair.But when he got back he turned up the Hull newspapers, and becameconvinced that the man who sent that parcel was--your cousin!"
"Aye!" said Allerdyke, nodding his head. "Aye! I expected that."
"He was sure it was your cousin," continued Chettle, "from thedescription of him in the papers, and from one or two photos of him thathad appeared, though, as you know, Mr. Allerdyke, those were poor things.But to make sure, I showed him the photo which is inside Lydenberg'swatch-case. 'That's the man!' he said at once. 'I should have known himagain anywhere--I'd a particularly good look at him.' Very well--thatestablished who the sender of the parcel was. Now then, the next thingwas--to whom was it sent. Well, this Martindale had copied down the nameand address from the station books, and he handed me the slip of paper.Can you make any guess at it, Mr. Allerdyke?"
"Damn guess-work!" replied Allerdyke. "Speak out!"
Chettle leaned nearer, with an instinctive glance at the door. Helowered his voice to a whisper.
"That parcel was addressed to Franklin Fullaway, Esq., The Waldorf Hotel,Aldwych, London," he said. "There!"
Allerdyke slowly rose from his seat, stared at his visitor, half-movedacross the floor, as if he had some instinctive notion of goingsomewhere--and then suddenly sat down again.
"Aye!" he said. "Aye!--but was it ever delivered?"
"I'm coming to that," replied Chettle. "That, of course, is the bigthing--the prime consideration. I heard all this young fellow Martindalehad to tell--nothing much more than that, except small details as to whatwould be the likely progress of the parcel, and then I gave him strictinstructions to keep his own counsel until I saw him again--after which Icaught the afternoon train to town. Martindale had told me where theparcel would be delivered from, so as soon as I arrived at King's Cross Iwent to the proper place. I had to tell 'em, of course, who I was, andwhat I was after, and to produce my credentials before they turned uptheir books and papers to trace the delivery of the parcel. That, ofcourse, wasn't a long or difficult matter, as I had the exact date--May13th. They soon put the delivery sheet of that particular morning beforeme. And there it all was--"
"And--it was delivered to and received by--who?" broke in Allerdykeeagerly. "Who, man?"
"Signed for by Mary Marlow for Franklin Fullaway," answered Chettle inthe same low tones. "Delivered--here--about half-past twelve. So--thereyou are! That is--if you know where we are!"
Allerdyke, whose cigar had gone out, relighted it with a trembling hand.
"My God!" he said in a fierce, concentrated voice as he flung the matchaway. "This is getting--you're sure there was no mistaking thesignature?" he went on, interrupting himself. "No mistake about it?"
"It was a woman's writing, and an educated woman's writing, anyway," saidChettle. "And plain enough. But there was one thing that rather struck meand that they couldn't explain, though they said I could have itexplained by inquiry of the clerk who had the books in charge on May 13thand the boy who actually delivered the parcel--neither of 'em was aboutthis evening."
"What?" demanded Allerdyke.
"Why, this," answered Chettle. "The parcel had evidently been signed fortwice. The line on which the signatures were placed had two initials inpencil
on it--scribbled hurriedly. The initials were 'F.F.' Over that wasthe other in ink--what I tell you: Mary Marlow for Frank Fullaway."
Allerdyke let his mind go back to the events of May 13th.
"You say the parcel was delivered here at twelve-thirty noon on May13th?" he said presently. "Of course, Fullaway wasn't here then. He'd setoff to me at Hull two or three hours before that. He joined me at Hullsoon after two that day. And what I'm wondering is--does he know of thatparcel's arrival here in his absence. Did he ever get it? If he did, whyhas he never mentioned it to me? Coming, as it did, from--James!"
"There's a much more important question than that, Mr. Allerdyke," saidChettle. "This--what was in that parcel?"
Allerdyke started. So far he had been concentrating on the facts givenhim by the detective--further he had not yet gone.
"Why!" he asked, a sudden suspicion beginning to dawn on him. "GoodGod!--you don't suggest--"
"My belief, Mr. Allerdyke," said Chettle, quietly and emphatically, "isthat the parcel contained the Russian lady's jewels! I do believe it--andI'll lay anything I'm right, too."
Allerdyke shook his head.
"Nay, nay!" he said incredulously. "I can't think that James would send aquarter of a million pounds' worth of jewels in a brown paper parcel bytrain! Come, now!"
Chettle shook his head, too--but in contradiction, "I've known of muchstranger things than that, Mr. Allerdyke," he said confidently. "Verymuch stranger things. Your cousin, according to your account of him, wasan uncommonly sharp man. He was quick at sizing up things and people. Hewas the sort--as you've represented him to me--that was what's termedfertile in resource. Now, I've been theorizing a bit as I came up in thetrain; one's got to in my line, you know. Supposing your cousin got anidea that thieves were on his track?--supposing he himself fancied thatthere was danger in that hotel at Hull? What would occur to him but toget rid of his valuable consignment, as we'll call it? And whatparticular danger was there in sending a very ordinary-looking parcel ashe did? The thing's done every day--by train or post every day valuableparcels of diamonds, for instance, are sent between London and Paris. Thechances of that parcel being lost between Hull and this hotelwere--infinitesimal! I honestly believe, sir, that those jewels were inthat parcel--sent to be safe."
"In that case you'd have thought he'd have wired Fullaway of theirdispatch," said Allerdyke.
"How do we know that he didn't intend to, first thing in the morning?"asked Chettle. "He probably did intend to--but he wasn't there to do itin the morning, poor gentleman! No--and now the thing is, Mr.Allerdyke--prompt action! What do you think, sir?"
"You mean--go and tell everything to your people at headquarters?" askedAllerdyke.
"I shall have to," answered Chettle. "There's no option for me--now. WhatI meant was--are you prepared to tell them all you know?"
"Yes!" replied Allerdyke. "At least, I will be in the morning--firstthing. I'll just tell you how things have gone to-day. Now," hecontinued, when he had given Chettle a full account of the recenthappenings, "you stay here to-night--you can have my chauffeur's room,next to mine--and in the morning I'll telephone to Appleyard to meet usoutside of New Scotland Yard, and after a word or two with him, we'll seeyour chief, and then--"
Chettle shook his head.
"If that woman got a night's start, Mr. Allerdyke--" he began.
"Can't help it now," said Allerdyke decisively. "Besides, you don't knowwhat Appleyard mayn't have learned during the night."
But when Appleyard met them in Whitehall next morning, in response toAllerdyke's telephone summons, his only news was that neither Rayner norMiss Slade had returned to the Pompadour, and without another wordAllerdyke motioned Chettle to lead the way to the man in authority.